These Days of Dust
by Leca B
Summary: So she closed her eyes, ran a finger across the brochure at the bus station and came up with Storybrooke, Maine. She held on to Henry, tried to crush the memories of borrowed motel rooms and maps and broken promises. She'd waited long enough in Tallahassee. She hopped on a bus and they were off to the start of the rest of their lives. Modern Day AU. Emma doesn't give Henry up.


A/N: Uhm… Hello. So, I just sat down and wrote this 8k monster in one sitting. It took me most morning and all afternoon. I just couldn't stop. This story is based on a real story, kind of. My sister has a friend who never met her real dad, her mother married when she was very little and her stepfather raised her as his own. She calls him my dad and everything, she never even wanted to know about her biological father. And I just really wanted to explore that with Captain Swan and Henry, because I love Captain Cobra.

**PLEASE BEWARE** that this might be a **trigger warning** to someone for child neglect. It's not very bad, just some mentions of it, but if it's a sensitive matter to you, be careful if you decide to read it.

And I've gotten way out of my comfort zone with this one, I've never written anything like this and it's not really something I've contact with in my life, I just tried to put myself in Emma's shoes, and it's only a fanfiction, I'm really, really sorry if I somehow turn out to handle a situation poorly. Please have patience.

That being said, I have all the respect for single mothers. Just… You people have a whole new kind of strength.

.

Emma's twenty-one and stuck in a waitressing job on a little old diner in a one-horse town, struggling to make ends meet and keep a roof over their heads so they don't try to take her baby away. It's a small ancient building and the owner is a gruff old widow, the likes of which you see on the news for chasing down thieves with a shotgun. She's a bit rough around the edges, but kind, and when Emma showed up at her doorstep holding up the hiring ad with a two-year-old on her hip and ratty sweater practically hanging out of her shoulders, Mrs. Lucas opened the door, threw her an apron and gave her a key to a room in the inn just around the back. No questions. She feeds them breakfast and lunch, lets her keep Henry around her behind the counter, and sometimes sneaks him blueberry muffins just before they leave for the night, and it pains Emma to think it's because she's afraid he won't eat before the next morning.

It's an absolutely gut wrenching feeling, knowing that in the past she'd have been right.

(She thinks of cold nights huddling together in the backseat of the bug, stomachs growling and Henry sobbing against her chest, no money, no friends, no one she could turn to, knowing she needed to steal again, but terrified they would catch her and take her little boy away from her)

She'd decided to leave the big cities. They worked for a young thief and a con man, but things tended to be more expensive when you're actually paying for them, and if she wanted to keep her son she needed to start keeping to the side of the law. So she closed her eyes, ran a finger across the brochure at the bus station and came up with Storybrooke, Maine. She held on to Henry, tried to crush the memories of borrowed motel rooms and maps and broken promises. She'd waited long enough in Tallahassee. She hopped on a bus and they were off to the start of their rest of their lives.

And it hurts to think about it, it positively _aches_, like a wound that just won't heal, but she's cried herself to sleep enough, and she doesn't have time for sad. Sad will have to wait until the bills are paid.

At night, Henry climbs into her bed, even though Mrs. Lucas gave her a room with two, even when she tucks him in and tells him a story and waits for him to fall asleep before lying on her own. He always ends up snuggled up to her, because it's all they've ever known and he's too scared to sleep alone. Emma thinks of dark rooms and tall flickering shadows, of muffling her sobs in her pillow on a bed that had been so many others' before hers, knowing already that no one was coming to soothe her, no one would ever come to soothe her. She holds him tighter and kisses his dark unruly hair and promises him if they've got nothing, at least they've got each other.

And she'll never let him go.

.

Killian Jones is supposedly the town's resident bad boy, with his leather jackets and skull necklaces and devilishly handsome looks, but Storybrooke must be weirder than she thought, because from what she knows of bad boys (and she had a vast experience with them, against her better judgment), they drove around town in motorcycles breaking into stores for the hell of it, looking down their noses at everyone and possibly throwing rocks at puppies, and Killian Jones is nothing, _nothing_ like that.

She's working the morning shift when they meet. He walks in dragging his feet in all his leather clad glory, sits down by the counter and orders coffee, face buried in his hands. Emma knows a killer hangover when she sees one, so she leaves him to his misery. Henry is sitting a seat away, silently drawing with the crayons Mrs. Lucas found in her granddaughter's old stuff, but the moment he sees the newcomer he stops stock still. Emma thinks he might be afraid, he's only three and strangers are supposed to be scary at this stage, right? But he just stares at him with something akin to awe in his wide brown eyes. The man must feel the staring, because he pulls one hand away from his eyes to look at her son.

Emma tenses, ready to grab Henry and pull him away, but her little boy just blurts out, "You a pirate?"

She doesn't know what she is expecting, really, but she knows it's not the completely charmed grin that breaks through the man's face. And she doesn't know how she missed it, but he is so _handsome._ Dark hair and a sharp jaw and a seriously nice scruff and the bluest eyes she's ever seen, lit up with amusement and a softness she really didn't expect to see there.

"Honey, don't bother the man…" she starts half-heartedly, but he waves her concern off with a smile.

"It's fine." He tilts his head to the side. "What's your name, lad?" and of course he has a British accent.

Henry sticks his chest out proudly and replies "Henry," only he's still so little, it kind of sounds like 'Henwy' and she thinks it's the cutest thing ever, but she's his mom, she thinks everything he does is cute. It clearly melts the hungover guy's heart too, because he leans in like he's about to tell him something amazing.

"Can you keep a secret, Henry?"

His eyes grow wide and he nods profusely. The man grins. "I _am_ a pirate. Got a ship and everything."

And she should be mad at this man, mad that he thinks he can just go around telling little boys that things like pirates exist and that he's got a ship and giving him _hope_, because sooner or later he'll find out that none of that is _real_ and he'll be so crushed…

But she hasn't ever seen her boy's eyes so big. It's really such a lovely sight, and not only because it's adorable. There's a light in his eyes she only vaguely sees when she's putting him to bed and trying to come up with a story. It's the glow of childhood she's always lacked, that pure untainted _belief_ that things like fairy tales can be real, that he can actually meet a pirate on a diner, because why not? No one's taught him otherwise yet. It's the sight of her son being a little boy, when she never got to be a little girl, that nearly brings her to tears.

"Thanks," she whispers to him once he finishes his coffee, and he looks confused for a moment, but he glances at Henry and his eyes are impossibly soft. When he looks up at her, there's something swirling behind the blue she hadn't seen before.

It's that kind of sadness, of long buried pain and angst that she knows all too well. That haunted look they all share. She looks at him and for a second, it's like looking in the mirror.

They share a wry smile, because it takes a lost girl to know a lost boy, and he parts with a whispered "Don't mention it, love."

She wants to tell him she's not his love, but he already left.

.

She's just been abandoned two years ago by a man she loved, a man she trusted, he just left her high and dry and her walls, only half way down, slammed right back up to sky high. She tells herself she has her son and he's her whole world and that's more than enough, has to be enough, because she's had a taste of love and it _hurts,_ it hurts and it _damages, _andit_ cripples_, and she's never going to go through that again.

But Killian is so _nice_. He comes by sometimes and sits with her when the diner is not too crowded, and they talk and talk, and he orders something every few hours so Mrs. Lucas won't kick him out for taking up a chair. He says he's just bored, but she knows he's doing it to spend time with her. She finds out he owns the music shop and gives guitar lessons on Mondays and Thursdays, discovers he does actually own a boat, though it's not the ship he'd first told Henry. She's not the most enthusiastic listener, doesn't answer his questions most of the time, or does so with monosyllabics. She's scared at first, scared that he's going to try and hit on her, because she's not ready. She has her son to think of and her trust issues and a hundred million little voices whispering in a constant stream in the back of her mind that she doesn't deserve to be loved. She keeps waiting for the moment he'll get tired of her reticence and give up, but he doesn't. He always comes back.

He makes her laugh. It's been _years_ since she as much as smiled to anyone who wasn't Henry, but something in his words always has her fighting to keep the corners of her mouth turned down. It's his tone, the gentleness with which he treats her, not like she's fragile, but like she's… Like she's precious.

And he's so good with Henry. Ever since she had him she's put herself off the market until further notice, but she has had men come up to her trying to flirt and it usually only takes the mention of her son to send them running in the opposite direction, occasionally a more persistent kind makes an effort to try and sound interested in her son but she knows it's just to try and get in her pants. But Killian is just… He genuinely likes Henry, he's so _kind_, telling him crazy stories of pirates and princesses and treasure maps, sitting down at his usual bench and attentively listening while Henry tries to tell his own, and he's three, it's mostly random babbling, but Killian laughs in all the right parts and looks like he really understands.

And she's so afraid of the day he'll up and leave because Henry is so little and he's already so attached to him, and sometimes he cries when Killian goes home and she doesn't know what she's supposed to do when he inevitably gets tired of them and moves on with his life. She's already gotten used to being left behind; she doesn't want Henry to know that kind of pain.

One day, about four months after they've met, he asks her out. It's nothing fancy, he just asks her if she wants to go out for coffee somewhere where she doesn't have to serve it, and Mrs. Lucas is in sitting right beside them knitting Henry a sweater for the winter, and Henry is on his other side, scribbling furiously what has the vague shape of a ship and it feels normal and good and _right._

She says no.

She can't take the chance that she's wrong about him.

He smiles at her and doesn't push. He turns back to Henry and grabs a crayon to help him with his pirate ship.

Henry cries when he stands up to go home.

She thinks she might have too.

.

He doesn't leave. He still comes every day and plops down on his seat and wastes his whole lunch hour talking to her instead of eating, and sometimes when she's a frantic mess running from one table to the other at the diner's rush hour, he sits with Henry on a booth and has his lunch with him and looks after her son for her. The sight makes her heart ache all over again, watching them laugh together and steal fries off each other's plates. Henry's hair is dark and always so messy, and Killian's is too though he insists it's 'fashionably disheveled', and from the angle she's standing she can't see Neal's brown eyes… Just for a second, just a _second_, she lets her thoughts wander.

Killian's not Henry's dad and she tells him that sometimes, gently, carefully reminds him, to make sure he doesn't just blurt that out someday. She'll have enough trouble trying to explain to him why his father was never around when he grows up, she doesn't want him to think he's found a dad only to lose him again when Killian scrams, because he might have persisted so far, but no one waits too long. And if it comes to her, he'll be waiting a long time.

She plops down on the booth they're sitting one day, huddling together and challenging each other to speak tongue twisters, Killian purposefully messing his up until Henry is giggling loudly. She notices he hasn't touched his vegetables. She might not have had a healthy diet as a child (barely eaten at times, ate too much crap at others), but she knows kids are supposed to eat their greens, and she's about to point it out, but Killian steals one of the carrots and makes a comical delighted expression and hums loudly in appreciation.

"It's really good, lad, you should try the carrots," he says matter-of-factly, and she raises her eyebrows because who the hell is that happy eating carrots?

Henry picks up one of the tiny slices and chews on it. He eats the rest of the vegetables without protest.

They don't mention it again, but she starts noticing things. Killian cuts Henry's food for him, and convinces him to use napkins instead of his sleeves because 'pirates have to know how to be gentlemen when the occasion calls for it, lad'. When it's dinner rush time and she has to stop helping her son with the letters game Mrs. Lucas had assured her taught her children to read, he wordlessly picks it up and does it for her while she's attending to the patrons.

And it scares her (it seems she's always scared after Henry was born), but it feels… Kind of nice too. She's always been good at reading people and she knows, with full certainty that Killian's just trying to help. He likes her, yes, he's made it obvious when he asked her out, but he's not doing this out of some stupid notion that she'll owe him for it. He's genuinely just trying to help.

And she wonders.

.

She asks him one day why he does it.

He tells her the story of a runaway father, a brave, beautiful mother who fought for them until she dropped dead from an illness, and two brothers flung across the Atlantic to be with relatives who ended up slamming the door on their faces. Two brothers who only had each other until one of them died and there was just the one.

She tells him of Neal.

He doesn't comment much, but she knows he's angry, knows because when he was telling his tale she promised to punch his relatives in the face if they ever crossed paths.

They understand each other, and for the first time since the Neal fiasco, she doesn't feel so alone.

.

They flirt sometimes. It's not serious, just two friends having a laugh. He's the king of innuendos and she's the queen of the witty comebacks, and it's nice to think that she can just flirt for a bit and not have it come back to bite her in the ass. Occasionally Mrs. Lucas looks up at them over her glasses' frame and snorts, shaking her head and muttering about youths.

He still makes her laugh and helps her with Henry and she just… She trusts him. He comes when he says he will, doesn't ever push her boundaries, treats her well, _understands her_. She doesn't have to say a word. He seems to just sense what she needs and he's always there to give it. And she's not leading him on, never promised him anything, never gave him false hope, they're friends and she makes sure he knows it. He tells her he's okay with it, and it's always a shock to see that he means it.

He still likes her. He likes her, and he'd like to be more, but he's leaving it up to her.

It's always up to her, whether she says yes or no, or never figures out what she wants.

He can give her time, because he's not going anywhere, not until she tells him to.

It's good to make her own choices for once.

.

Mrs. Lucas' granddaughter comes back from college for the holidays. She's a leggy brunette who wears just the right amount of makeup and fashionable clothes. Emma's in her waitress apron, bags under her eyes, hair a tangled oily mess because Henry's ear is infected and he's crying night and day and she can't leave him alone for five minutes to take a shower. And they're the same age, the same fucking age, but Ruby's complaining about finals and her noisy roommates and gushing about college football players and Emma's rocking her baby and calculating how much many extra hours she'll have to work to pay for Henry's medication.

They're the same age but Emma feels about five hundred.

She's regretted so many things in her life, Neal being number one in her list, followed by offering to take the stupid watches for him and not fucking using a damn condom, and she loves Henry, she loves him with everything she is and everything she has, he's her world, her life, but sometimes…

Sometimes she just wants to be in Ruby's shoes for a day.

When Henry starts crying from the pain in his ears, she hugs him tight to her chest and sobs right along with him.

.

It's Henry's birthday and Emma's planning on a quiet dinner with Mrs. Lucas and Killian at the diner. She makes him chocolate cake and buys him an Iron Man action figure with her savings of the month. When she gets to the diner, Mrs. Lucas is holding the stairs while Killian hangs _fucking balloons_ and Iron Man posters and there's a seemingly endless amount of party food, sweets and pastries and little hot dogs and tiny hamburgers and she realizes the two sneaky idiots have been planning this for weeks. Killian drove to the neighboring town to buy the deco and Mrs. Lucas has been cooking after she left for home for the past two nights.

When she and Henry enter the diner, they are greeted with a shower of confetti and a cake with lit candles. Henry is so surprised he drops his picture book, but recovers almost immediately and rushes to the conspirators. Killian swings him up and props him up on the counter and they all enthusiastically sing happy birthday to you, and eat, and eat, and eat until they are about to burst. Henry tears through his gifts, leaving wrapping paper scattered all over. Mrs. Lucas gave him a stack of children books, now that he's reading better and increasingly liking to, and Killian gives him an awesome toy pirate ship, black sails, jolly roger and all. She thinks that maybe Henry won't like it as much now that he's into Marvel heroes, but he's clearly still very much for pirates, because he jumps on Killian's neck and pretty much hangs there until it's time to go.

And the thing is, it used to scare her so much, seeing them together, thick as thieves. She used to think she was setting them up for heartbreak, but looking at them now… Henry is so happy. He smiles more, dreams more, his eyes have a constant sparkle.

And she's not saying she couldn't have raised him alone, because she could. She could and she can, and if it all goes to hell and she's broken again, she'll manage. She's strong and she doesn't need anyone other than her son.

But she doesn't _have _to be alone. At least not for now.

It's too soon to decide anything, but she thinks maybe it's time to stop running. Maybe it's time to stop living in the past.

.

A couple months later she's cleaning the diner for Mrs. Lucas. The old widow had gone out to buy supplies for the next week and left Emma to care for the place. Killian had taken Henry to the library to return his book and the silence their absence causes unsettles her. She's so used to their constant babbling and ridiculous games as background noise, she's never noticed how comfortable it felt to hear them over the cacophony of the diner, how much she misses the simple certainty that they are nearby.

When she hears the rattling from the back of the store, she thinks it's Mrs. Lucas coming back with the supplies. It only takes her a second to realize she didn't hear the sound of the truck that made the deliveries for her.

She lets go of the broom slowly, tiptoeing towards the counter. She'd been right about the shotgun after all, Mrs. Lucas showed her where she kept her weapon of choice a couple of weeks after she'd first started working there. Just in case, she'd said. And now Emma fears this is very much the case.

It's a bit surreal, being the one to defend a territory other than the one trying to invade it for once. She's a tough girl, wouldn't have survived the foster system and the prison otherwise, she can defend herself, but the sudden rush of adrenaline makes her feel a bit sick. She hadn't ever been a burglar, she was a petty thief. She walked into a store, stuffed some things on pockets and walked out before someone noticed, no one ever got hurt. But she'd known women in jail with much worse on their heads, enough to scare her right now.

It's a risky move, but she picks up the phone and calls the Sheriff Station.

Sheriff Nolan picks up on the second ring. She only knows him from the diner, knows he likes eggs and bacons with his coffee and he has a lovely wife who's very sweet and very pregnant, but that's about as far as she knows about him. Mrs. Lucas says he's a good man, and Killian seconds it, so she supposes he's alright. And isn't it just _weird_ the kind of thing you end up thinking when you're nervous? She tells him what's going on as quickly and silently as she can, but when the noise starts getting closer, she ends the call and drops the phone.

When the thief opens the door to the diner she's got a shotgun trained on his face. He's young, she sees, and apparently unarmed. His eyes are so wide at the sight of her she almost feels bad for him. Remembers running out of stores with Neal on her heels, laughing at another narrow escape, pulling out a mars bars from her pocket and devouring it like it was a heavenly treat. She hesitates, and it's enough for him to jump the counter and try to run away. He tackles her in the process, both of them dropping like bowling pins, but he gets up faster and runs off. She scrambles after him.

She's been in this town for a year, a whole fucking year and the only thief she'd ever heard of was herself. This is a peaceful sleepy little town, not fucking Portland. For once in her life she can walk home after dark with no fear that anything will happen to her. Her son is out there, Killian and Mrs. Lucas, and Dr. Hopper who is always so polite even if he does look like he's trying to analyze her, and Leroy, that grumpy jerk who's actually pretty funny when he's not hungover, and Mary Margaret Nolan who knit her a scarf cause she saw her shiver from cold once, and she is not about to let this fucking loser get away.

She might have started as some nobody orphan abandoned on the side of a road who didn't belong anywhere, but she's here now, and Storybrooke is the closest thing to home she's ever had, and she will. Fucking. Protect it. Petty thief or not.

He's new in town, she thinks, he keeps changing directions, but it's like he doesn't know where he's going. When she sees an opening, she turns a corner and follows him from the back street. He looks behind and slows down, thinking he lost her, and that's when she tackles him right to the ground. They fall beautifully, he crashes face first on the ground and she hears a sickening snap that might have been his nose. Her hands are slightly scraped from the impact, but she makes sure to grab his and hold him down.

It doesn't take long for someone to come over and help her, and not much more for Sheriff Nolan to find them. He takes one look at the young man, looks over at her, and he's clearly impressed.

"You caught him all by yourself?"

She nods. She sees him look incredulously at her and she tries not to be too annoyed, because she knows he's seeing a skinny girl in a waitress apron, but she swears if he's condescending she'll punch him in the face, sheriff be damned.

His face breaks into a smile and he tilts his head.

"Miss Swan, would you be interested in working with the law?"

.

It takes about twenty minutes for Killian to knock on her door, and if this was last year she'd be annoyed, but now she only thinks 'small town' with a bit of fondness. She's washed off her scrapes earlier and she's in her pajamas pants, scrubbing the dirt from her jeans' knees from when they rubbed on the muddy ground in the tackling. She opens the door and tries to step away so he can come in, but he flings his arms around her and crushes her to him.

She realizes in the whole year they've known each other, they've never hugged before. They actually barely even touched because he respected her boundaries and he never initiated anything if she didn't give him permission to, and she'd never even allowed herself the comfort of holding his hand. And that's just…

It' so _stupid._

She brings her arms around him too, buries her face in the crook of his neck.

And it's… It's nice. It feels good. And right. Familiar.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods against his shoulder. "Good," he says.

.

Sheriff Nolan has to deliver the paperwork to Madame Mayor (Regina iss a bit of a hardass, but not that bad a person deep down), but he promises her she can start on Monday.

When Emma sees the working hours, her chest grows tight at the thought of spending time apart from Henry, but when she reads how much she's being paid now, she almost cries. It's a bit embarrassing, but Sheriff Nolan just smiles at her and graciously pretends he didn't see.

When she tries to give Mrs. Lucas the keys to the diner back she just shakes her head and smiles. Something fierce like pride shining in her eyes. She tells Emma she's already part of the Granny's family and she knows she probably meant it as an employee thing, but Emma remembers the sweaters and scarves she knit for Henry and her, the blueberry muffins she used to sneak him, that little birthday party with the red and yellow balloons and her favorite Danish pastry, and can't help but feel a slight pang in her chest. She was going to miss the diner.

Through it all, no one is more excited than Killian and Henry. They sit on Granny's counter and stare at her like proud mamma bears as she works her last few days until Regina approves the paperwork and Mrs. Lucas hires a new waitress. Henry babbles to whoever enters the diner that his mother is a Deputy now, and it makes pride explode in her chest at the thought of being a role model to him, being someone he can be proud of. And she'd done it herself, not because of someone's kindness. This is a result of her guts and her good thinking and her _choice_.

And Killian's just… He's being incredible.

"Oh, I know what's going on, Jones, you just want contacts in the Sheriff station," she teases him.

He fakes a surprised expression. "Damn it, Swan, how did you know?"

"I'm a very perceptive person," she grins.

"My mom is a deputy!" Henry blurts out to Dr. Hopper when he crosses the threshold.

"So I hear! Congratulations!" he wishes her.

"Thank you." She suddenly feels a bit bashful. So many people had congratulated her, sincere, heartfelt well wishes and it's a bit humbling.

She's used to seeing the world as a dark, dark place where everyone only looks out for themselves and she's not ashamed of it, it's kept her alive so far. Storybrooke is this bright, happy place, and it's still a bit unsettling even after all this time.

"Why do they keep congratulating me? They barely know me," she mumbles to Killian, who just grins at her.

"Well, for one, you happen to have the cutest son in the universe" he starts, and Henry preens where he's sitting, pulling his shoulders back and raising his chin and it's so adorable, but so completely Killian when he's trying to show off, "And," he continues, leaning on his elbows on the counter, bringing his head closer to hers, "You're one of us now, love, and we take care of our own."

.

They work out an agreement to have Henry stay at Killian's shop while she works. It's not all that different from the diner, he'll still be behind a counter and he knows to behave when the responsible adults are working. Killian says he'll even teach him how to play the guitar if he wants, and that seals the deal for her son.

Her first day of work is terrible. Sheriff Nolan – David – is really nice, but a terribly messy person, and she spends all morning just putting the correct files in the correct order in the correct date before she can even start on typing them into the new system. It's boring work, and it doesn't demand much, leaving her more than enough time to mull over how much she misses her baby. She'd been so worried about how Henry would feel being away from her after all that time being just the two of them, how Killian was going to deal with a toddler on his own, if everything would go right with them, she never stopped to think that _she_ would be the one with the attachment problem.

When she stops by the music shop to pick Henry up at the end of the day, Killian is already closing up. Henry is bundled in a warm fluffy coat and they're singing Lion King Songs. Killian finishes locking up and extends his hand for Henry, who's already reaching for his. They climb down the two steps to the street and see her standing by the bug and their eyes just… Light up.

And maybe it's because it's dark and she can't see Neal's brown eyes, or maybe it's all the time they've been spending together that's making Henry pick up Killian's mannerisms, but for a second she thinks they could pass for father and son.

The thought doesn't scare her so much anymore.

.

A couple of weeks later she barges into his shop while he's teaching a little girl to play a Cinderella song, and she's a bit blonde, with bright blue eyes and so small she can barely hold her guitar up much less get the accords right, but he's smiling patiently and humming along to 'So This Is Love' and she's never, ever, _ever_ thought about having other children, never thought she'd ever want them, could barely look beyond getting Henry his next meal for a long time, but her brain goes all whack and she finds herself thinking of a blonde little girl with her cheekbones and his chin and his blue, blue eyes and something inside her twists and _aches_.

She wants it so badly.

.

He was the first person to give her a choice.

She supposed they had it right with the whole 'if you love them set them free' thing.

She chose him.

.

She shows up at six to get Henry and finds them passed out on the shop couch. Killian's laptop is on his desk, Netflix running the credits to Hercules while he dozes off on his back with Henry sprawled across his chest.

She hadn't wanted to let him in, terrified that he'd be another one to leave, another person on her endless list of disappointments. She convinced herself if she was distant enough he'd realize she was not worth the trouble and go away, but look at him. Look at this beautiful bastard. She made him wait for a year and a half and he's still here.

He's still _here. Still waiting._

Maybe she _is_ worth it after all.

.

"So, now that I'm not going to be serving it, I suppose we can have our coffee?"

"Swan, are you?"

"Asking you out? Absolutely."

.

Barely a month later she calls him boyfriend. Mrs. Lucas teases them to an inch of their lives while she collects money from a betting pool (_a betting pool_) that apparently had been going around since they met about how long it would take them to get together.

David and Mary Margaret are lovely, lovely people, but they are new parents who absolutely love their baby but have no idea what they're supposed to do with him, and for once she's the one with the answers. Teenage single mom she might have been, but Henry turned out just fine. They start grabbing dinner together sometimes so she can share all her mother wisdom and burgers at Granny's turn into weekly dinners at the Nolan's and she suddenly has a pair of best friends and, dare she say it, a social circle.

She's saved up enough money to rent an apartment. It's cheap and not all that impressive, but it's her own place, that she got with her own money and she's proud.

She thought being a Deputy in a sleepy little town would be piece of cake. She now knows that the lack of serious crime gives the inhabitants the notion that they can occupy their time with the pettiest matters in the book. Emma and David had been stuck chasing down a supposed shoe thief, who turned out to be a stray dog with a love for old slippers. They had to settle a prank war between two sixty year old twins that took on epic proportions. They had a frantic mother calling them for help because she thought her eleven year old son was planting pot when he was actually growing beans for a school project.

It's a wonder really that she falls more in love with this ridiculous town every day.

.

Henry calls Killian dad one day.

They are just grocery shopping, Henry is having a bit of a hissy fit because he wants ice cream and when Emma says no, he turns to Killian with pitiful puppy eyes and goes:

"Please, daddy!"

They never correct him.

He gets the stupid ice cream.

.

On summer they move her things to his apartment.

.

On September Henry starts kindergarten. They dress him up in his uniform (and Emma takes the moment to appreciate her current job, she can't imagine how she would pay for all his school stuff before), help him put his little notebook and pencils inside his Captain America backpack and carefully prepare him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the perfect ripe apple on the side for his lunch, complete with a loving note signed by both of them inside his lunchbox. They drive him to the school and he's so excited Emma has to tell him to put his seatbelt three times.

They drop him off at the front door and chat to his teacher for a couple of minutes.

She introduces Killian as Henry's father.

No one says otherwise.

They walk back to the car and turn around to look at the school one last time. They stand there holding each other for fifteen minutes, not knowing what they're supposed to do with themselves.

They go home and spend the whole day curled around each other sniffling like babies.

(And it is about Henry, but it's also about a lost girl and a lost boy who never got to have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and loving notes on their lunchboxes)

.

Henry's next birthday has a hell of a lot more than three people in attendance.

.

They're lying in bed one day, sweaty and sated and she's sprawled half on top of him, bare leg curling around his while he holds her close. She's getting sleepier by the minute, breathing deeper every time, eyelids getting heavier, warm and so ridiculously content she can't keep a low hum of appreciation. He chuckles, makes a joke about her being like a kitten after sex and she gives him a playful slap in return, but he goes still a little after.

She thinks he fell asleep, but he blurts out "Do you want to get married?"

She pushes away from him, leaning on her elbows to look at his face. He's not even joking. "Are you serious now? What kind of proposal is that?"

"It's not a proposal, love. I'm asking you for permission to ask for your hand in marriage."

And she should be afraid, she should be so scared, because marriage is a big thing, it's a huge step and she's barely learned to accept her love for him. And yes, they've known each other for years now, and they're living together for a while and he's the best thing that's happened to her after Henry, he's crazy about her and loves his son as if he were his own, she loves him so much she can barely breathe at times, and he makes her feel like the most brilliant woman in the world. He makes her feel like she's worth waiting for, fighting for.

But…

But nothing.

She spent her whole life running and all it brought was pain. She is exhausted.

She's done.

"… As of now, you have my permission to ask for my hand in marriage."

.

They get married in the spring, and it's the most cliché thing ever. There are flowers everywhere and seemingly the whole town in attendance. Mary Margaret stands to her right and David stands to Killian's left. Henry is carrying the rings and it is the general consensus of the guests that he really _is_ the cutest child in the story of the universe, especially in a little tuxedo.

Emma is wearing a long white dress, elegant and beautiful, and she's got curls in her hair and a_ tiara_ and she feels like a fucking princess. It's been an emotional rollercoaster these last few months, planning a wedding, dealing with the bureaucracy so Killian could adopt Henry and be officially his father, trying to shove the memories of years and years believing she would never get here, never get to be loved, never get to be happy.

But she's here now, and she's here to stay.

This is her happily ever after.

Ironic really, that she'd find it in a town called _Storybrooke._

You've got to admire fate's sense of humor.

When the judge pronounces them husband and wife, he leans in and kisses her while her friends, her _family,_ cheer, and it's been decades since she's read the Princess Bride, but all she could think at that moment was 'this kiss left them all behind'.

.

A year later they welcome Liam David Jones into the world.

Killian cries like a baby.

She doesn't have a mirror, but she thinks she's even worse.

.

The social service calls the Sheriff Station one day to report a missing child. David's gone home earlier because James had woken up with a fever, and she promised she'd take the night shift for him. She calls Killian to tell him she'll be home late, puts on her leather jacket and goes to look for the little girl.

Long brown hair, blue eyes, last seen wearing jeans and a striped red sweater. Her name is Lydia.

She finds her curled up on herself on an alley right beside the Italian restaurant. She is wearing the jeans and striped red sweater, or a ratty old version of it, at least. She's a slight thing, too small and too thin for her age, stringy brown hair with wide, guarded blue eyes. She's only six, but she looks at her with the wariness of a child ten years her senior. She talks to her from afar, knowing better than to approach her when she's this scared. She introduces herself, talks to her in calm, soothing tones, but honestly. Emma doesn't patronize her.

She knows what it's like to be in her shoes.

It's almost an hour later when she finally convinces Lydia she's there to help.

She throws herself into Emma's arms and wraps her bone-thin arms around her neck. She doesn't let go for the rest of the night, and Emma isn't sure she wants her to. When her case worker shows up at the station, a woman in her mid-thirties, tired and hopeless, mirroring so many from her childhood, Emma holds on to Lydia and refuses to let go.

She calls Killian and tells him to come to the station.

He just has to lay his eyes on Emma sitting down, clinging on to the skinny little girl jus as much as the little girl clung to her. He says yes before she has to ask him.

It's not that the social worker is trying to stand in the way, she just doesn't get it. She's troubled, she says, she ran away from her foster home, she'd been neglected and mistreated and she would need a lot of loving and caring to recover. They already had two children, were they ready to welcome a stranger into their home?

Everything she says just makes them love her and want her more.

.

They're finally allowed to bring her home.

Emma takes her by the hand and leads her right to the bedroom they made just for her. She'd told them she liked the Little Mermaid, so they'd painted her walls light sea green and everything is seashells and little fish. And Emma knows how it feels, to walk into a bedroom and know you're not the first to be there, and you won't be the last, knows what it's like to not unpack your meager possessions because you know you won't stick around for long. She hasn't thought about it in years, but the pain is all too fresh when she has to see it in her daughter's eyes.

Lydia carefully places her little suitcase beside the bed.

She doesn't unpack.

.

Emma and Killian shower her with love. Henry is not much older than her, but he sits by the couch and reads her his favorite stories, suffering through the occasional tea party for her sake. Liam doesn't seem to get at first who she is supposed to be, but once they explain to him she's his sister (like Henry, only a girl) he just accepts it as the universe's truth and moves on with his toddler routine as usual.

Slowly, Lydia starts smiling.

One day they're playing Candy Land and goofing off and they're startled by the sound of her laughter.

And one night she comes home to see her husband and children lying on a blanket on the floor, a tangled heap of legs and arms. Liam is curled up in a little ball on Killian's chest, Henry is lying sideways with his legs sprawled over his father's, and Lydia is snuggled up to his side, Killian's arm wrapped around her.

The next morning, Lydia's clothes are on the drawers and her little suitcase is nowhere to be seen.

.

Emma's thirty-one and stuck doing paperwork on her Saturdays because David tripped on a log while chasing Will Scarlet for stealing something or other and broke his foot. She's bored as hell, but is also grateful for the extra hours since Henry took up those painting lessons. Who would have known paint and brushes were so expensive? She looks at the clock in the wall for the hundredth time. She gets out at lunch time and Killian is meeting her at Granny's with the children. It's tradition by now. They always have breakfast food for lunch, and though Mrs. Lucas says they're doing her a favor getting rid of the breakfast leftovers, Ruby confides to them that she actually makes all their orders herself. Henry likes to hop behind the counter sometimes and Ruby teaches him how to make milkshakes and hot chocolate, and sometimes sneaks him blueberry muffins just to hear Emma complain that she's spoiling his appetite for dinner.

(The ghost of cold nights huddling together in the backseat of the bug with growling stomachs and no means to make it better still lingers in the back of her mind sometimes. It doesn't ever completely go away, but the memory is not as painful as it once was. She learns to use it as a reminder to appreciate what she has now)

Sometimes she thinks about that day at the bus station, how she closed her eyes and ran her finger across the destinations brochure and came up with Storybrooke, thinks what would have happened if her finger had lingered over another name. Sometimes she thinks about motel rooms and dream catchers and Tallahassee and a man who will never know he has a son, and how brilliant he turned out to be.

And it hurts, it still hurts a bit, even after all this time, but it doesn't _ache_. Not anymore. Time _does _heal all wounds, and hers have scabbed over in the last decade. They're still there, healed, but scarred. She still wakes up with nightmares of police car sirens and social workers taking her baby away, but Killian's right there beside her to remind her she's safe and she's loved.

Some nights she wakes up to the scuff of little socks on the floor, and Liam shaking her awake because it's storming and he's scared. She picks him up and rolls him until he's tucked under the covers, between her and Killian, safe and sound. And sometimes Lydia joins them because the tall flickering shadows in her room scare her and she finally has someone to soothe her. And on some, more and more rare, nights, Henry gets up from his room when he listens to his siblings trudging towards their parents' room and throws himself onto the human pile just because there's still space in the mattress.

She looks over their three children to her husband, smiling with amusement when he fakes a pained expression, reaching for her like she's miles away. They reach over their children's heads and lay their intertwined hands on the pillows, holding tightly.

And she's got so much nowadays, a husband she loves, amazing children, a good beautiful house that's just theirs, a whole town she can call her home. And it's taken her long enough to get here, she knows better than to take it for granted.

The lost girl found home at last.

And she'll never let it go.


End file.
